


Missing You

by Poemwriter90



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, vampire!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poemwriter90/pseuds/Poemwriter90
Summary: Dean and Sam are cleaning out a nest of vampires, and Dean meets someone he didn't expect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: mention of depression, vampires, machetes.

Dean pushed you against the wall of the warehouse, the blade of his machete pressed against your throat.

“Am I supposed to be scared now, Winchester?” You asked, a cocky smile on your lips.

“I would be, if I were you, (Y/N).” Dean said, pressing the blade a little harder against my throat.

“Go ahead, Winchester. End my life. You took everyone I’ve ever cared about, so why not take the last important thing I have?” You asked, the fight going out of you.

“Um….you aren’t going to fight me? Are you a depressed vampire?” Dean asked, loosening his grip on the blade a bit. You nodded, at least, as much as you could with a blade against your throat. Dean pulled the blade away, and stepped back.

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N).” Dean said, holding the machete by his side.

“Okay.” You said, moving towards him. Dean pointed the machete at you, and you halted.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Dean. I promise.” You whispered, putting your hand over his. You take the machete out of his hand, and drop it next to you. Dean warily watches you, wondering what you’re going to do next. You can tell that him letting a vampire this close goes against every instinct he has. His breathing becomes quicker the closer you get, until you can practically feel him begin to hyperventilate.

“Calm down, Dean. I’m not going to hurt you.” You say, stopping right in front of him. He watches you, eyes wide, as you bring a hand up to his cheek. You trace his cheekbone, reveling in how warm and alive he feels. All the decades you’ve spent only around your own kind, avoiding hunters and humans, drinking only animal blood-it felt wonderful to be able to touch someone living. It was something that you’d never admitted to yourself that you’d missed, something you hadn’t realized that you’d missed. You leaned forward, closing the space between you, and gently pressed your lips to his. Dean responded, seeming to have finally accepted that you meant him no harm. His hands came up and gripped your waist so tightly, that if you’d been human still, you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingers. Not that you would’ve minded that. Your fingers threaded through his short hair, and you practically trembled with how alive you felt. You continued to kiss Dean for a few more minutes, your fingers touching his shoulders, back, torso, wherever you could reach, until you became aware of the sound of footsteps and the scent of another hunter.

“Sam’s coming, Dean.” You whispered against his lips.

“So?” Dean whispered back.

“If he sees me, he’ll kill me.” You replied.

“Don’t go, (Y/N).” Dean said, as you pulled away.

“I have to, Dean. Thank you.” You replied, gently squeezing his hand. You ran deeper into the warehouse, stopping only once to look back at Dean, who was standing stock still, his fingers against his lips, a bewildered expression on his face.

“Dean!” Sam Winchester shouted, running towards his brother.

“Are you okay, man? Did you get bitten?” Sam inquired, looking around warily.

“I’m fine, Sammy. There’s nothing here-let’s go.” Dean said, breaking out of his stupor.

This memory of my second encounter-but certainly not last-with Dean Winchester flashed through my mind, as I stared down at the beautifully engraved headstone.

“Dean Winchester. January 24th, 1979 to July 14th, 2020,” I whispered, kneeling in front of his grave. “I miss you, Dean.”


End file.
